The Name is Merlin, Merlin Emrys
by beaujrka
Summary: Time and Space, two things no magic user should ever mess with. Not that any had the power to do so… Right? "He probably got LOST, the prat. If he wont come to me, then I'll go to him." Siiigh why doesn't he ever do as he's told...?
1. Just Like Starting Over- John Lennon

It was a cold day at the turn of the century. A young man walks through the tired town and out towards the forest.

The world had changed a great deal compared to back when Arthur and his knights ventured forth into danger to save Camelot and her people. Buildings are ever growing taller and technology is always advancing. But people… people were always the same.

Our unchanging hero had traveled to new and exciting lands in search for his destiny. He looked out into the world and had seen millions of faces. But none of them that looked back were the ones he was searching for. Always searching, never finding. He grew tired of waiting.

His destiny was late. He shouldn't be too surprised. The prat couldn't even lace up his own boots without assistance… Why should reincarnation be any different?

The young man, as he would look to our eyes despite being near two thousand years old, stormed silently towards wild forest. Magic was never talked about or practiced in the open. It was even more underground than it had been all those years ago. It was stifling

The fear, which started with Uther, never truly left some hearts in Camelot. That fear didn't grow, but it festered. And like a wound, when left to fester it can become deadly. And so it had.

Our hero walks deeper into the woods; his destination is a cave as much untouched by time and as saturated with magic as Emrys himself. The ancient breaks free of the trees and into a clearing. He never pauses, but continues towards the cave built into the side of a ravine. He walks towards the opening, through the barrier and into the cave. He stops short and stutters in a long breath. Home.

It has been a long time since he's been home. A long time since he breathed in air so full of power and history. It felt good to be back.

His knees gave out underneath him and he plopped to the ground. The rocks beneath him should have been cold, but they weren't. They hummed with residual warmth as light refracted from the crystals adjourned to the walls, bouncing and shimmering creating colors in a way only magic could. It was as if the cave welcoming an old friend.

Not that he noticed.

Emrys, as he now calls himself just sat on the ground staring at his legs crossed beneath him as his mind was running in a million different directions.

All of a sudden he glanced up and further into the cave. He squinted his eyes and stood there… calculating… thinking.

The cave looked on in mild amusement. The cave had known Emrys for a long time. It had seen him BECOME Emrys. It had been with this extraordinary young man and saw him through his many hardships and pains. For only Emrys and the cave could understand the pain of being stuck and watching on as you loose everyone and everything to time.

It knew the conclusion Emrys would come to before he himself figured it out. So the cave could watch on as the pain from Emrys' eyes slowly started fading away. The cave celebrated as the mischievously happy light synonymous with Merlin rose up to replace it. Finally.

Merlin was always full of hope and life. Always willing to fight and try, even when the hopes were against him.

Emrys had been different. Emrys was a side to Merlin that came about when the hope died. It progressed slowly, but eventually overcame the all exuberance that our young Merlin had. Merlin became Emrys because as time passed the young man connected more with his Emrys side than his Merlin. So he had gone by Emrys for centuries now… but no longer.

For the idea that came to the ancient young man was so unbelievably stupid, so risky, so problematic that it could only have come from Merlin.

Light danced through Merlin's eyes as it danced through the crystals around the cave.

"Of course! The prat couldn't find his sword if it was attached to his waist! Why did I assume he could do something as important as finding his own way back…". He sighed with a smile on his face.

"Well nothing else to do about it." Merlin groaned as he stood up and started walking deeper into the cave. The deeper he got the lighter he felt, and the lighter the cave became.

His grin started small but soon took over his face. He was going back.

* * *

A/N: Hey all! Welcome to my first Fanfiction. PM me or leave me a review to let me know what ya think and to give me any helpful tips :) Thanks


	2. I'm On My Way- The Proclaimers

It was bright. Really bright.

Merlin cracked opened his eyes and winced as he adjusted to the light. He was disoriented. Suddenly his blanketed confusion was thrown off of him as a burst of understanding came over him.

He had done it.

It took him a while to observe and understand the fabric of time. But for one who could weave life and death itself, solving time travel was just a matter of… well.. time.

Merlin looked around with wide eyes. He was outside his village leaning against a tree as if he had simply drifted off after a morning of work in the village. This was amazing. He was back. He stood up gingerly and breathed in enjoying the air. It smelled of hay and manure so it was a bit fouler than the air of the future, and yet somehow fresher, full of promise. Everyone that he missed… everyone that he failed… and everyone that failed him, they were all alive. They were all waiting for him.

He needed to be careful. Time is fragile and Merlin had already bent it pretty drastically. It would need time to heal before it would be malleable enough to traverse again. Not that he was planning on going back. What would he even be going back too? But it was important to keep in mind.

He walked back to the village, taking in his surroundings enjoying the long forgotten details of the past. He had lived through many generations but the faces that are most familiar to him all came from this time.

He caught sight of his mother from across the village. Her hair was pulled up and hidden beneath a green rag, keeping the strands off of her face for the most part. She stood up from her work and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the corner of her sleeve only adding to her dirty complexion.

Merlin smiled. His mother. The woman shoveling manure will also be the same woman to stare down the Crown Prince of Camelot and tell him that if she was to die she would want to die fighting.

As if sensing someone's eyes on her she looked around and his eyes caught hers. Her gaze softened affectionately as her mouth tightened into a disapproving line. He ducked his head to hide a grin as he walked over. He was over a thousand years old and he about to get scolded by his mother. Merlin was the happiest he has been in a very long time.

"Merlin, where have you been?! I haven't seen you since dawn! You shouldn't go walking alone my boy, you tend to get into trouble when you're on your own" She shot him one last reproaching look then continued turning over the manure.

"Uh" He laughed nervously, "Sorry Ma", he said clumsily as he took the homemade rake from her hands to continue tilling the soil. She rubbed her hands on her apron as she moved towards the small cottage.

"Well never mind, you are leaving tomorrow… so I suppose you would want to take a walk and say goodbye." She responded walking into the small doorway and out of sight. Merlin put down the tool and followed her. "Although, you better be writing and visiting often" she said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'll be back mom. More often than you want me to be, how's that?". Merlin sat down at the small table and gazed around, mom had been cooking something. Most likely some kind of pottage, a soup-stew made from oats and beans. Hunith stilled back still facing Merlin and she bracing her hands on a thin table housing cooking supplies. She breathed in deeply then turned around steel in her eyes.

"You will be careful Merlin. You must be. Camelot is a big place, full of so many people… people of all sorts. You are bound to make friends my boy, but be safe" She turned back around to face the window. "As you have more to guard yourself from than most" she finished quietly, no doubt her mind was running through all the trouble her son could no doubt get into in such a large city. All of which probably happened, Merlin mused.

Merlin stood up and walked behind his mom and plopped his head on her shoulder. She turned around and engulfed him in a hug, which instantly brought him back to his childhood.

"I wont tell you not to worry Ma, because I know how much good that will do me. But trust me. I know what I am getting myself into". _This time._ He silently added.

He hugged her a little tighter and closed his eyes. He had forgotten how it felt to be truly home. To be with people who cared about him. He didn't want to forget again.

He released his mother and looked down to smile at her and was caught off guard by her expression. Her eyes looked hardened with distrust.

* * *

Hunith was looking at him, straight into Merlin's eyes. And it was like she couldn't completely recognize her son. The man that stood before her looked calm, confident, and yet weary. The kind of weary one get's when they have seen far too much. He looked like he was barely grasping ahold onto happiness by his fingertips. Merlin, her Merlin, was always in the thick of things. Energy seemed to roll off of him in waves. A smile was always on his lips. But no giddiness was coming off of her son. Not even excitement. The only thing exuding from this person was calmness; a calm confidence that came with time and experience. A calm confidence, that was very… un-merlin like.

The person in front of her seemed to sense her hesitancy, and she saw panic flash in his eyes. "Trust me!" He said again, with more anxiety than before. "That's all I ask". Trust him. Trust Merlin. There was no doubt that she could. But who was this man. This wasn't her Merlin. Her child. He looked like him, he even felt like him in a way. But he felt… older… much older, but still familiar. She looked in his eyes once more. Searching.

* * *

Merlin held his breath as his mother's probing eyes seemed to search his soul. He should have known that his mother would be able to sense a difference in him. It had been only them two against the world for his entire life. Always depending on each other. There was no one that knew him better. He had been clumsy. Not back here an hour and he was already causing suspicion.

Hunith put one of her hands to her son's cheek and searched. For a moment no one spoke. Merlin continued to hold his breath. Whatever his mother was looking for she seemed to find it, as her eyes softened and a small smile graced her lips. She said something then which Merlin had never heard her say before.

"It just struck me how much you look like your father" she rubbed his cheek motherly one last time, smiled, and then turned around satisfied and continued cooking.

Merlin silently sighed with relief, and surprise. His father was never a topic Merlin and his mother talked about. He asked when he was younger and always got some vague answer, which hid a great deal of pain on his mother's part. Merlin figured that he never knew the man and so it didn't hurt much to _continue_ to not know much about him. It also looked like it physically hurt for his mother to talk about that time of her life. Merlin was always curious, and a little sad about not having something that others took for granted but his mother was more than enough. Now, of course he knows why. Meeting Balinor and hearing his story only brought him and his mother closer together. He wouldn't think of it now. There was a lot to do and other things must take priority.

Tonight he would eat at home, and tomorrow he would be venturing forth towards his destiny… and his destiny's unfortunate ego. Oh god. What was he going to do?

* * *

Merlin awoke early and grabbed his pack. He kissed his mom on the cheek goodbye and went on his way. She stood in the doorway smiling, her eyes misty as she watched her son walk down the pathway and out of her sight.

It was early, and cold. Water still hung in the air and on the tips of leaves as they do in the early morning. Merlin walked towards Camelot with a spring in his step that he hadn't had since leaving Camelot all those years ago. He finally found his purpose. He wasn't walking around aimlessly anymore; he knew where he was going and whom he would see when he finally got there.

The trip into the city took two days and one night. He stopped along the side of the road and with practiced hands set up a small camp out of sight and made dinner. As he sat near the small fire he looked off into the darkness. The darkness no longer scared him. He no longer worried what was out in the woods, because he knew all too well that dangers would find him. It didn't matter if he worried or not.

He set up a small barrier around him and his fire. The barrier was not a strong one. It simply held a suggestion; the suggestion to look away, and the promise that nothing was there.

Your eyes see everything; it's your brain that chooses what information is most important for you to remember. Any person who is panicking and therefor working with only survival instincts would be able to see right through this magical safe guard. But it was a quiet night. No real danger here. Merlin knew where the true danger was, as he was headed straight for it.

Merlin twisted a small stick in the coals as he lounged near the fire to catch some of the heat radiating off.

What was he going to do? Impulsively he decided to come back to this time, his desire to belong strong enough to cloud his judgment. But what is done is done. Now what do to about it?

He needed to be careful. Change too much… and the timeline would deconstruct. He wouldn't be able to help anyone if he can't tell what's to come. But he needed to change some things. He wanted to save those who didn't have to die. He wanted to stop the torment of those who suffered due to his clumsiness. But another part of him argued that it wasn't about him. This wasn't just a chance of atonement. This was a chance to rise up and be all that he should have been the first time for Arthur. To say exactly what Arthur needed to hear. It was a chance for Merlin to have the answers for once instead of just endless questions. That way Arthur could become the King he needed to be and have the time to rule and change the world for the better

He was going back to Camelot. A place with a past and a future that only he knew the full extent of. But how was he going to focus on the present when he was trying so hard to prevent the future? Merlin furrowed his brows and threw the nub of a stick he was playing with into the fire in frustration.

He lay down facing away from the fire. The warmth seeped into his back and into his heart as he remembered that the best part of his life was yet to come. He was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. This time he was going to get it right.

* * *

A/N: Hey all! Welcome to my first Fanfiction. PM me or leave me a review to let me know what ya think and to give me any helpful tips :) Thanks


	3. Where are you now?- Alan Walker

**A/N** ** _:_** **Hi everyone! Thanks for making it this far. Teehee.**

 **So this fanfiction will include many of the important events in Merlin and Arthur's life, but write pretty long winded as it is, so things will be cut out for your sake... Let me know in a review or PM me if there is something that you think I should definitely keep, or change!**

 **Happy reading.**

It was getting more and more difficult. With every clang of metal against metal he felt his arms weakening. Every step he took he felt like his knees were going to give out. As the giant man hammered his sword towards the blond man with devastating blows, the young man sidestepped and parried, blocked and counter attacked. They were sparing at a grueling pace. It was getting more and more difficult to keep up.

The young man would have been fine had this been his first spar of the day. He would have been fine if this had been his 10th spar of the day. But the Prince had been training and sparing one on one with his knights all afternoon. Training the future knights of Camelot had become his main duty, his responsibility. The one thing his father gave him full control over. The prince of Camelot was a prodigy of swordplay. Within the first few moments of a spar he could instinctively understand his opponents fighting style and alter his own style accordingly. Prince Arthur seemed to always be in reach of a sword and a sparing partner. So even though the prince might not have been the strongest or the fastest of all his knights, he was definitely the most practiced. Which ended up giving him a rather lethal combination of skills. This combination had not let him down ever, as our prince is unmatched among his friends and enemies.

There was a first time for everything thought. Our prince could not afford do relax, not in his practice nor this match.

Who could possibly relax when one of the largest knights you have ever seen was currently pummeling you into the ground? Sure, to the untrained eye you would assume that Arthur was simply putting his soldier through his paces, as none of the giant knights blows connected in a disarming way. But Arthur's stamina was dwindling after his long day and it was getting harder to maintain the nonchalant attitude of appearance of ease he had kept up until now.

No. He was the Prince of Camelot. He was a symbol of all that Camelot is, and could be. It doesn't matter if this was his first match of the day or his hundredth. He couldn't lose. He wouldn't lose. It wasn't an option…At least not in his father's eyes. If he showed any weakness, especially in training, it would just give his father more cause to treat him like a child.

Another blow was coming at him, too close to dodge Arthur absorbed the hit and felt pain shoot down his shoulders and into his back, Arthur fought back a grimace. He needed to end this. His opponent was strong. Really strong, but the Arthur had the advantage of speed. Or at least he would have if Arthur hadn't overdone it… yet again.

The Prince and the knight locked swords, faces inches apart. Both men were pushing with all their weight to try to get the other competitor to fold. Both men were sweating. The larger man's face was flushed, while Arthur's was ashen with exhaustion. Arthur steeled his resolved and shifted his weight, lifting his opponent's sword up a fraction and ducking. From this angle he was able to push his sword hilt forward and to the side, which put the larger knight's wrist at an awkward angle and creating an opening. An opening which Arthur swiftly took advantage of. He elbowed the man and disarmed him. The prince jabbed his sword forward and stopped just short of a kill shot. He stood there for a moment then dropped his sword to the ground, inwardly relieved.

"Nice work" He barked. The knighted bowed to Arthur and replied "Thank you my lord". Arthur was already walking away.

"That's all for now. Turn in your equipment and be here tomorrow ready" He announced. Arthur turned and walked towards the stables behind the courtyard. He strutted through the groups of knights ignoring how they were bowing to him. He quickened his pace and was almost at a light jog as he entered into the stables. He turned in and slumped down to the ground back against the wooden wall, completely out of sight.

He had to grow tougher. He couldn't show such weakness again. Not with his father always breathing down his neck.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wooden wall behind him and took a deep but shaky breath in. He stretched out his legs and untied his light training armor. He was to be crowned Prince soon. Which would mean more time learning the political side of being King. Joy. He opened his eyes and looked around. He needed to blow off some steam.

Merlin:

Merlin walked into Camelot and through the market with wonder in his eyes. Everything was just as he remembered it. His eyes skirted from person to person, cart to cart, hungrily taking everything in. Merlin breathed in and smiled. He briefly fought the urge to lie down in the middle of the road and laugh.

 _Yep. That would have been a great first impression_ … Not that he did exceptionally well the first time around either. Merlin _still_ harbored an irrational fear of tomatoes.

Merlin walked into the courtyard and he found himself suddenly dodging people left and right, as a large crowd was funneling out. Confused, Merlin fought his way to one of the outer walls and skirted out of the way. He watched the faces pass by then turned his gaze towards the center of the courtyard, where the body of the executed man still lie.

His good mood dimmed. The courtyard was emptying out, families looked at each other and tentatively smiled, children were talking, the guards looked bored. Camelot had grown too accustomed to death. Merlin walked towards the dead sorcerer, his face not portraying any of his internal turmoil. He climbed up the three wooden stairs and stood on the platform slightly behind the fallen man.

"Get away from there, boy." A guard gruffly called out to him. Merlin, unhearing, lowered his eyes and looked at the ground between him and the sorcerer and grieved.

Merlin's eyes flew open as someone grabbed at the back of his shirt. Merlin suddenly found himself being propelled backwards through the air. His heart jumped in his throat as his back hit the ground. The air was nocked out of his lungs and he wheezed for a moment as he reoriented himself.

"I said Get. Away." Merlin slowly tried sitting up but the guard shoved him back down to the ground with one hand. The guard smirked and looked at Merlin lying in the dirt with disgust, then stood up and walked back to his post. Merlin propped himself up then stood, feeling his back straining.

Arthur:

 _What is he doing?_

It was just happenstance that Arthur was still looking out the window to see the man get dragged away from the body. He was walking through the corridor, away from his father, and towards the armory when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Nothing remarkable was happening, it was just some boy walking towards the executioner's station. Upon further observation it might have been a man, a skinny gawky man, but a mostly full-grown man nonetheless. Even so, it made Arthur stop.

The rest of the public had mostly filtered out, and the guards were back at their posts. Everyone was moving on with his or her life. Unlike this person, this person wasn't ignoring it; this man wasn't avoiding eye contact. He was facing the body. Walking towards it. Eyes open. Arthur turned towards the window and approached it; his accompanying guards stopped abruptly realizing their Prince had stalled.

"What is it sire?" one of his knights asked peering over his shoulder.

Arthur didn't answer, he continued to watch the black haired approach the block and walk up the stairs. Arthur's eyebrows rose in curiosity as he asked himself again; _what is that idiot doing?_ The prince watched from the side as the young man ascended the stairs and stopped to look down at the body at his feet. Arthur watched him close his eyes. From this far away it was hard to tell what the expression was on the man's face.

The man looked very thin; thin enough that one strong gust of wind might topple him over. Then there was a slight shift in the man's stance. Minute as the change was, it made a world of difference. It was as if all the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. The awkward looking man became rooted to the ground, centered, and strong. He stood over the deceased sorcerer as if he was a guardian statue, not a weak commoner.

That immobility proved to be an illusion, as one of the courtyard guards had walked out from underneath where Arthur stood and over to the man to yank him backwards by the collar. The black haired man toppled to the ground, Arthur saw the guard give the man another shove. The guard was walking back to his station, far below the window the Prince was currently peering out from when from behind the guard the man in question lifted himself up.

He could see the man's face clearly now. The Prince wasn't sure what it had looked like standing on the executioner's block but now the man's face was scrunched in annoyance. Even so, there was no real heat behind the man's eyes, no anger or hatred at being thrown to the ground. The intensity radiating from man earlier was completely gone, replaced by a rather foolish look of indignation. The man stood up, brushed off the dust on his clothes and sent an idiotic look to the back of the guard still walking away.

Arthur felt his mouth quirk up in a half smile. He caught it before it got too far, and he schooled his features. He turned to continue down the hall and dragged his gaze away from the man in the courtyard.

Merlin:

 _Castle guards are absolutely the worst. Give me scores of corrupted sorcerers, a rapidly moving plague, even Uther on a bad day; but please spare me from idiot guards whose only purpose is to stand around uselessly._

Merlin stood and made a face at the guard, daring him to turn around. When he didn't Merlin stood up and brushed off the dirt from his pants. He sighed; well as useless as guards are at least he was back to see them act stupidly. Merlin left the courtyard and meandered around the castle grounds. He must have walked for quite a while as the sun was starting to begin it's downward decent as Merlin found himself entering the training grounds. Merlin felt himself being pulled in two very opposite directions. Merlin longed to see his friend again, his brother, his King. But on a different strand Merlin felt a pit in his stomach. This was what he had been waiting for for scores of years… why was he hesitating now? He cleared his throat uncomfortably and walked around the bend, he was staring at the ground prolonging the moment.

Arthur:

"Run!" Sir Elric laughed. "Moving target practice he said!" Arthur leaned back arrogantly and readied his next throwing knife, zeroing in on the target.

He let loose another throwing blade, striking the outer corner of the centermost ring of the target. He heard a squeal of fear from the servant holding the target. Arthur didn't care; he needed a little bit of fun after another long day of the always-crippling pressure.

He felt, more than saw, Elric ready his own blade. Elric was not as good of a shot as Arthur was, but he was decent enough. Arthur probably should have stopped him but he didn't.

Elric let loose his blade and hit the outer corner of the target throwing off the poor servant's balance. The running man pitched forward and was about to land rather hard and awkwardly on the unyielding ground, when out of nowhere someone grabbed the servant's arm in an iron like grasp keeping the man afoot.

The target wobbled to the ground, as the servant looked up into his savior's eyes, the man that caught him was quite a bit taller that the shaky servant, albeit much skinnier.

"All right?" The black haired man asked. There was warmth emanating from the man's eyes that engulfed the servant and thawed his anxiety. The servant found himself clasping his free hand to the other man's shoulder and returning the smile in thanks.

"Where did you come from?" The frazzled servant laughed.

The man smiled and his eyes grew even more warm and friendly, if possible.

"Farther away than you might think." He replied with a hidden smile.

"But, who are you? I thought I knew everyone who worked in the palace?"

"Well your record is still intact as I don't work in the palace. I'm visiting, the name is Merlin." He replied, eyes glancing over to the crowd of knights watching on confused on how to react.

The black haired man smiled and cuffed the smaller man on the shoulder.

"It's funny, isn't is?" Merlin announced, suddenly louder as if he wanted to be overheard…

"Camelot is more than just the land we are standing on. It is more than it's rulers. It is more than a palace, even if the palace is as grand is this one," Merlin said gesturing to the large castle looming over them all.

"Camelot's heart is found in its people," Merlin's hand briefly pressed on the smaller servant's chest over where his heart would be.

He continued, "Camelot's real strength lies with its people." Merlin glanced pointedly to the group of men standing off a ways.

"You would think that Knights of Camelot, sworn to protect Camelot, would understand that. They would understand the fact that attacking one of its people _is_ attacking Camelot itself." Merlin closed his eyes and swung his head low.

Arthur was staring at the man, _Merlin,_ with furrowed brows. _Who was this man?_ How dare this commoner admonish him, the Prince? The thought slipped past his subconscious without any effort at all. It was a practiced reaction. One he had learned from a very early age from his father. When this feeling slipped to the surface it cut him to the quick, because this was exactly what the man was speaking to. For some reason Arthur really felt those words deeply, they held more weight that they maybe should have.

The man turned to walk away and Arthur started to panic. Before he could stop Arthur found himself shouting to the man

"You… Boy… Tell me, do you know how to walk on your knees?" The prince said with a dangerous tone. Inwardly cringing, the prince still hoped his threat hit home enough to get a rise out of the man.

Merlin, with his back to the group, turned slightly and looked over his shoulder eyes connecting with the Prince's for the first time. "Yes, I can." He smirked and turned and kept walking.

Arthur, smiling, put a hand out to stop a few of his fellow knights who started towards the slowly retreating figure.


End file.
